


Date Night

by PerpetualWritersBlock



Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, also maybe slightly ooc but i tried my best, general rick spender brand emotional turmoil, i try to do angst but in the end i am softe and so are my fics, slight angst, sort of?? in that someone gets hurt, this could fit somewhere in canon timeline maybe but i'll be damned if i know how or where
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerpetualWritersBlock/pseuds/PerpetualWritersBlock
Summary: Spender, Garcia, and the Activity Club take on some spirits. Things don't go quite according to plan.
Relationships: Mr. Garcia/Richard Spender
Kudos: 8





	Date Night

**Author's Note:**

> Also for @riku-reimei for the pnat secret santa! hope you enjoy this one, too!

“I want you to know this is irresponsible mentorship!”

Spender shot a blast of spectral energy at one of the spirits he was facing. “How so?”

Max leapt into the air, dodging one diving at his feet. “You said one or two weak spirits! Not a whole pack of- of wolf things!”

“Wolf things?” Isabel shook her head. “They’re clearly octopi!”

“Octopi have ten tentacles,” Ed supplied helpfully. “These have eight. Like squids.”

“Yeah, well, squids don’t have dog ears and big teeth, do they?”

“I thought they looked like parrots, with the beaks and colors,” Isaac said quietly.

“ _Parrots?!”_ both Max and Isabel screeched in unison.

A crossbow bolt whizzed between them, knocking one of the spirits that was about to pounce right out of the air.

“Hey, kids!” Garcia snapped. “Maybe decide what they are once we’re no longer _in active danger_!”

“Sorry!” they all yell.

Max wasn’t done, though. “ _And_ you dragged us out here on a school night.”

“Our responsibilities transcend scheduling issues!”

Max deflected a claw with his bat. “They better transcend deadlines, too. I want an extension on tomorrow’s paper.”

“Fair.”

Spender dodged backwards, ending up back-to-back with Garcia.

“For future reference, babe,” Garcia muttered, taking aim at another spirit, “when you said ‘date night’, this isn’t really what I was thinking.”

“I thought you liked the hunt?”

“The hunt is one thing. The _kids_ are another.”

As if on cue, Ed came hurtling through the air like a football that had acquired the ability to screech. Garcia jumped up and caught him by the ankles as he whizzed by. “You ok, kid?”

“I’d be better if I wasn’t upside down,” Ed said honestly. Garcia snorted, flipping and dropping him. “Everyone’s a critic.”

All in all, it was going well- the wolf-squid-parrot spirits were tough, especially when Spender’s team was outnumbered twenty-to-six, but they weren’t as tough as the Spectrals. The kids were working together well, too, Spender noted with pride.

But, of course, things couldn’t go that smoothly for him.

“Watch out, kid!”

Spender whipped around just in time to see Jean shove Isabel out range of a spirit’s blast- and get in range of it himself. The force blasted him back, slamming him into a tree. He crumpled at the base of it. Spender felt like the wind was knocked out of him at the sight of it.

“ _Mr. Garcia!”_

The spirit that had knocked him down opened its mouth again, clearly ready to send another blast at the downed Jean.

“No, you _don’t_!”

He used as much of Lucifer’s power as he dared to rocket across the field, smashing into the spirit with a huge spectral fist. He turned and shot off several more spectral energy blasts, each one finding a target- not enough to kill them, but certainly enough to hurt. He probably shouldn’t have been spending that much energy, but Jean was injured and he was terrified- and _angry._

“Ow,” Jean grumbled behind him. Immediately, Spender forgot about the spirits, rushing towards his boyfriend and dropping down next to him.

Jean was smoking slightly in a way that didn’t inspire confidence. Spender reached out to grab him, but withdrew- he didn’t know how badly Jean was injured, he didn’t know how to _help._ “Jean, are you- I don’t- are you ok, can you stand?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” Garcia tried to push himself up, but immediately collapsed again. “Ow.”

“You are _not_ fine,” Spender snapped, trying not to let his fear show too baldly. “Just- try not to move, I’ll-”

“Mr. Garcia!” Max and Isabel came skidding to a halt next to them.

“Mr. Spender, is he okay?” Max asked the question, but both of them looked like they already knew the answer.

Still, Spender didn’t want to make the kids worry any more than they had to, so he forced a smile best he could. “He’ll be fine, it’s worse than it looks!”

“Guys, help, they’re going to get away!”

Isaac points at the spirits, who had taken advantage of the momentary distraction to start sprinting away through the woods. Ed tried to catch them in a spectral net, but they broke free almost immediately.

“I’ll get them!” Isabel yelled, charging forward. Spender raised a hand to stop her-

And he felt a ferocious pull from the spirit in his mind. He looked up with a dark shadow looming overhead, facing down his own personal devil of a spirit, who was glaring at him with a single eye.

“Lucifer, I don’t have time for this!”

“Then I’ll keep it short,” Lucifer replied. “You were about to stop the child- why? Go with her- with _them_. Someone summoned these spirits. If they escape, they take answers with them, and we can’t keep affording this.”

“But Jean-!”

“Will understand!” Lucifer snapped. “I am here because I saw that you were, once again, about to let your emotions get the better of your reasoning! If you want answers, you must follow these spirits- let everything else care for itself! Do your duty!”

Spender knew Lucifer was always right. He knew his spirit would guide him on the path he needed to walk, whether either of them liked it or not, while he would sometimes waver. He knew he and his spirit were the key to defending Mayview.

But he also knew that Jean was injured, possibly badly, and one of the children he was meant to protect was about to rush after the spirit who did it.

In the end, it couldn’t be about logic or reasoning or the greater good. There was only one thing Spender could possibly do.

Lucifer seemed to see the decision on his face. “Spender-”

“For once in your life, Lucifer, I need you to _stop talking_.” Spender stood as tall as he could, glaring at the bird. “There will always be more of these spirits to hunt down and question. But there is only one Jean Garcia, and there’s only one Isabel, and I _will_ protect them.”

Lucifer looked like he might say something else, but Spender was done talking with the spirit- he wrenched himself back to reality and grabbed Isabel’s arm. “Isabel, _no._ ”

Isabel looked dismayed. “But- Mr. Spender, they’re getting away!”

“Let them,” Spender replied firmly. “I need to take care of Jean, and I can’t let you all go after them alone. One person injured is more than enough, all right?”

“But-”

But Spender’s attention had already shifted over to Jean, slowly helping him stand.

“’m ok,” Jean mumbled again, probably out of habit. Spender adjusted so he was almost carrying him, using a bit of spectral energy to prop him up.

“Are you gonna go to the hospital?” Isaac asked. Spender shook his head, trying again for a reassuring smile. “I know someone who can help.”

An hour later, Spender was back home, pacing outside his bedroom door. He jumped a mile into the air when it opened. Mina Zarei stepped out and gave him an unimpressed look, which he chose to ignore. “How is he?”

“Alright,” Mina replied. “No internal hemorrhaging, the worst is a couple of cracked ribs and some cuts, which I closed up. A mild concussion, as well, so he’ll have a headache. He should rest for a while, so keep an eye on him.”

“I will,” Spender said, nodding firmly. Mina nodded, brushing past him.

“Mina?” She stopped as she was reaching for her coat. “Thanks. You know, for coming.”

Mina sighed. “Richard, you don’t have to thank me for this.”

Spender didn’t know how to answer that. _I’m sorry_ seemed inappropriate, and _I wish things had been different_ seemed a bit much. Instead, he just shrugged. “I want you to know I appreciate it is all.”

“Here’s a thought, then,” Mina replied. “If you truly want to thank me, then next time I ask you questions about something, at least try and trust me.”

Spender opened his mouth to protest before silently shutting it. Mina nodded with satisfaction. “All things aside, Richard, I _am_ glad you called me.” She gestured to the bedroom door. “Take care of him, okay?”

“I will.”

With a slight wave, Mina left, shutting the door behind her.

Spender peeked into the bedroom to see Jean sitting up in bed, poking at his bandages with an annoyed expression. He caught Spender’s eye and made a face. “I feel like this is excessive.”

Spender tried for a smile, but he wasn’t really feeling up to it. Jean caught that, too. “Hey. I’m okay.” He spread his arms wide. “A little banged up, but we both know I’ve had worse, right?”

“Right,” Spender murmured. There was still a pit in his stomach when he thought of Jean getting hit by that spirit, but he tried to ignore it.

“I am kind of hungry, though,” Jean mused. “What do you have in the kitchen?” He started to pull back the covers and swing his legs out of bed, but Spender rushed up and pushed him back down. “Hey, what-”

“Bed rest!” Spender exclaimed grandly. “No cooking for you! I’ll make dinner.”

Jean gave him the flattest look imaginable. “ _You’ll_ make dinner.”

Spender waved a hand airily. “Please, Jean, I’m an adult. I can cook. How hard can it be?”

“How hard can it be, huh?”

“I tried,” Spender said glumly, watching Jean poke at the strange lumps in his bowl of sludge. “You make soup look a lot easier.”

“Soup is literally just dumping a bunch of things in a pot and letting it sit,” Jean said, terribly amused. “You haven’t cooked in so long; I didn’t realize you were still this bad at it. Soon as you let me out of bed, I’m teaching you.” He hesitantly took a spoonful of ‘soup’, and blinked in surprise. “Huh. You know, other than the texture, this is actually not bad.” Jean smiled fondly as Spender puffed up at the half-compliment.

Spender watched Jean eat for a while, but had to speak up. “If it really was bad, you’d tell me, right?”

Jean looked up in surprise. “Hm? I wouldn’t be eating if it was that bad.”

“I meant this, actually,” Spender said, leaning forward to tap the bandage on Jean’s cheek. “I know it wasn’t _too_ bad this time, but… if it ever _was_ bad, you wouldn’t lie?”

Jean huffed out a breath, dropping the spoon to grab Spender’s hand. “Babe, you worry too much. But yes, if I was ever _actually_ hurt, I wouldn’t lie to you about it.”

Spender interlaced their fingers with a slight hum of acknowledgement. “Considering I had to watch you get blasted into a tree today, I’d say I worry about the right amount.”

“Rick,” Jean said, nudging his chin with their joined hands. “Look at me.” Spender did, and Jean smiled tiredly. “I can tell that in your head you’re still in the woods, figuring out what could’ve been different, but you need to stop, yeah? I’m _okay._ The kids are okay. Things worked out, one way or another. Take a moment to enjoy that. Stop living in your past mistakes; focus on your current successes, even if they’re small.”

Spender smiled, pressing a kiss to Jean’s hand. “When did you get so wise?”

“Dunno,” Jean said, picking up his spoon again. “Maybe you’ve created some new drug in your wonder soup. What the hell is this lump supposed to be?”

“Oh- I think that’s a potato.”

“That’s a _what_?”

Later, while Spender was doing the dishes, his phone rang. He dried off one hand to grab it. “Hello?”

“Hello? Mr. Spender?”

“Ah! Isabel!” He shut off the water. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to check on Mr. Garcia,” Isabel said. “Is he alright?”

“He’s doing fine,” Spender said. “His injuries weren’t too severe.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Isabel was silent for a little too long after that, while Spender tried to figure out why Isabel would be so concerned about Jean. I mean, he had come along on a few missions, and he was their teacher, and Jean was _pretty_ sure the kids had figured out by now that the two of them were dating, but-

“Can you tell him I’m sorry?”

Isabel’s voice was incredibly small, especially for her, and immediately Spender’s thoughts screeched to a halt. _Oh,_ he thought. _Of course. How did that take me so long?_

“Isabel, you don’t need to apologize for this,” Spender said gently.

“It happened because of _me,_ ” Isabel replied. “If I had been more careful, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and the spirits wouldn’t have gotten away.”

“None of us were prepared for how bad the situation would be,” Spender said. “It was an accident, Isabel, you shouldn’t blame yourself for that-”

“How do I not blame myself for something that was my fault?” Isabel asked miserably. Spender opened his mouth to answer, and found that he didn’t have one ready. Here was one of his kids, his responsibility, clearly in need of support, and Spender was lost.

His phone was suddenly removed from his hand, and he turned to see Jean standing behind him. “Isabel, is that you?” Jean said. “Listen, kid, I’m fine.”

Isabel said something on the other end, and Jean’s expression softened minutely. “Kid, don’t apologize. You’re being hard on yourself again- remember we talked about this? You were soloing three strong spirits and one of them got the jump on you, that’s reasonable. If I’d been paying attention, I could’ve gotten it _before_ it went for you and avoided this whole mess, so it looks like we’ve both got some practice to do, hm?” He chuckled at whatever Isabel said in response. “Yeah, yeah, don’t fuss, kid. And it’s not your fault, all right? I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t either. Okay. G’night, Isabel.” He hangs up and hands the phone back to Spender.

“You really should be in bed,” Spender said reproachfully. Jean shrugged. “Heard you talking to the kid, and I figured she must’ve been beating herself up.”

“I didn’t,” Spender said quietly. “It took her apologizing for me to figure that out.” He sighed, slumping back. “I used to be good with them, Jean, especially Isabel. But now, I… I never know how to reach them.”

He felt Jean tugging him into a one-armed hug. “You’ve fallen out of practice,” Jean said. “Just keep trying, and you’ll get there again.”

Spender sighed again, relaxing into Jean. “Yeah. Yeah, I will. Thanks, Jean.”

“You’re welcome.” Jean started tugging him towards the bedroom. “Now, I’m tired and so are you, and your blankets suck so I need you to warm them up. Let’s go.”

“But- the dishes-”

“They’ll be there in the morning. Come on, babe.”

“Go on.” Lucifer was suddenly there beside Spender, looking on. “You’ve already ignored your greatest responsibility to this town- what are the dishes in comparison?”

“Give it a rest, Lucifer,” Spender said tiredly. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Richard Spender,” Lucifer said steadily. “And somehow you always manage to choose incorrectly.”

“I chose to help Jean, and protect Isabel,” Spender snapped. “That’s my responsibility, as much as protecting the town is. Like I said, there will _always_ be more spirits to fight and get answers from, and I’ve decided today that I’m done risking the lives of the people I care about for them. So we can argue if you’d like, Lucifer, but it can wait till tomorrow. I’m going to bed.”

Lucifer stared at Spender for a long moment before looking away. “Well, at the very least, I’m glad for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ve chosen a path for yourself. Now let’s see if you can stick to it.”

Lucifer vanished, and the room went back to normal. Jean looked at Spender with an expression of vague distaste. “Please stop going into your spirit world thing mid-conversation.”

“Sorry,” Spender said sheepishly. “Where were we?”

“Heading to bed,” Jean said. “I’m assuming you were going to argue about it, though.”

Spender smiled. “Not this time. Lead the way.”

He ignores Lucifer’s stony silence in his head, and ignores the little voice trying to remind him of everything he’d failed at that evening. For once, like Jean said, he chooses the present.


End file.
